Love Thy Enemy
by EverdeenEmbrace
Summary: Waking up in bed with him, I could deal with. I could even deal with waking up to find him naked and practically spooning me. What I couldn't deal with, however, was waking up married to him. Rating may change.


-I do not own anything associated with The Mortal Instruments.

~Note that the rating may change in the future.

_~;~_

My eyes slowly began to open, fluttering like wings as light assaulted them, and quickly slammed shut against the attack. Tentatively, I tried again to pry open my eyelids, but settled for only opening one – the left one as it was farther away from the window – as the other refused to give into my demands. _Stupid sunshine_, I think irritably as I bring my arm to press my fist into first my right eye then my left and stretching my body out on the bed.

A hiss of pain draws free of my lips as my mind registers the aching feel that lies in each of my limbs, namely my hips and legs. My muscles feel much too tight as if someone stretched them as far as they could before letting them snap back together while I slept. That thought is much more unnerving than it should be, especially considering how unlikely and physically impossible the task was, but I didn't dwell on it for too long. I just didn't have time to wonder about the odd, though deliciously welcome feeling that resonated throughout my being. Not if I didn't want to be late for work.

I really should have registered the added dip of weight in my bed and the extra warmth that was encompassing me much, much earlier than I did, but as it is, I didn't. It wasn't until I was withdrawing myself from the bed and heard the throaty groan of a man shifting in his sleep, that I took notice. Holding back a shriek of terror, confusion, and a wholly different array of emotions, I turn around to stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the guest taking residence in my bed. All I see at first is a very tan, very muscular back adorned with the feathery black ink of tattooed angel wings that erupt from his oh so prominent shoulder blades, and my crisp white sheet slung dangerously low on his hip to reveal one firm, golden buttock. Something tugs at the back my mind, telling me that I recognize this body and that tattoo, but I can't quite place it. That is, I can't place it until scenes from this past Spring Break flood my mind along with countless other memories spread out along my adolescent years, and I can instantly identify who the man is.

I don't even hesitate, don't stop to question what I'm doing or pause to care that I'm still just as naked as he is, before I move to sit on my knees on my bed and reach out to roll him to his back and slap him awake. I'm immediately rewarded with the startled and pissed to hell stare of his liquid gold eyes as he springs forward into a sitting position just inches from me. His mouth opens to say something I'm absolutely sure is obscene, but he stops himself as soon as his eyes meet mine. I watch, angry and fascinated, as a spectrum of things flicker through his eyes almost too fast to catch. There's rage and confusion and disgust and finally anger once more.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he snarls. I find that the murderous tone, though I've heard it a great many times, doesn't really fit with his voice or his features and completely mottles the velvety lilt his words always take. He also looks much less harmful and arrogant – with his heavily lidded from sleep eyes and matted blond locks – than he normally does, which just furthers the idea he wasn't made for blind fury.

Nonetheless, I glare back just as fiercely. "I was really hoping _you _could tell _me _what _you're_ doing in _my _house and bedroom." I snap back at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I regret the action instantly though as I see his eyes follow the movement of my arms and then rove up and down my bare form. Thankfully, I wasn't blessed with a large bust and my slender arms obscure them from his burning gaze.

When he finally looks back up at me, there's a sneer lining his lips and an even harder glint in his darkened eyes. "I would have thought it was obvious." he states slowly as though he's speaking to a toddler. His eyes rake over my body once more before landing back on mine. "Who would've thought you had in it you, Fray?" he says with a bark of mocking laughter.

"Had what in me?"

"The ability to loosen up. I just didn't think that loosening up also meant giving it up, but I don't blame you. I'd jump my bones too if I were you."

My hands ball up into the tightest of fists, my nails digging painfully into my skin to leave crescent shapes behind, and my teeth gnash together to keep me from lashing out to hit him square in his jaw. I stare at him with either raging eyes or dangerously devoid of emotion eyes for the longest of minutes before a smirk appears in place of his sneer and he opens his mouth again to speak. He doesn't get the chance to let any words fly, though, before my control slips and my fist connects with him. To my surprise, his head snaps back with the amount of force I used and the shock of me losing my temper. "Get out of my house, Wayland." I seethe at him in a low, even voice.

Jace doesn't move, instead choosing to stare at the hand I hit him with, a puzzling expression draining all color from his face. It's like a cross between wanting to vomit, jump off the balcony that's just outside my window, or flee from the room. I really wouldn't mind the last two options, but I really didn't think I could stomach seeing him puke all over my bed. The sight would either make me want to kill him even more, getting myself sent to jail for the rest of my life, or possess me with the need to also turn over whatever is littering my stomach, furthering the mess I would be forced to clean.

After a few more minutes that feel more like houres of Jace looking at my hand with his twisted face, I lose my patience with him. "What are you staring at?"

Again, Jace doesn't say or do anything and just when I think he's being a child and ignoring me or giving me the silent treatment, he slowly reaches forward in precise movements that seem robotic and grabs my left hand in his and brings it closer to his face for examination. Brow furrowing in confusion, I try to jerk my hand back and away from him without success, but on the second try I manage to yank away in freedom.

"What is wrong with you?" I expect no answer and receive none. Rather, I get rewarded with seeing Jace try to scramble out of my bed only to get tangled in my sheet and blanket in his haste and fall to the floor in a heap of naked, sun-kissed limbs. I avert my eyes as he stands, surely flushing crimson in embarrassment to having seen him naked, but look once more at him as soon as I see him grab his discarded jeans in my peripheral vision. Jace has pulled his jeans up his legs but has neglected to close them and so they hang low on his hips the way my sheet had, emphasizing the tight firmness of his abs and the deep V that leads down into his zipper, a light dusting of blonde hair trails down into the unknown as well. The sight shouldn't be nearly so welcoming or enticing and it definitely shouldn't be causing a new kind of flush to rise up in my skin as heat courses through my body like a tide. I watch almost disappointedly as he pulls his shirt back on, the black of it offsetting his natural tan, and then disappears out my bedroom door.

Puzzled at his reaction, I lift my hand and look down to see what caused him to lose what little of his mind he had. After that encounter, I was sure nothing else in this world could dare to come close in comparison with the amount of shock, fear, and dread I had felt. Looking at my hand, I know I was wrong because there, nestled snugly on my fourth finger – my ring finger – was a simple silver ring.

_~;~_

MWHAHAHAHA.

Lol, hi, guys. I have no idea where this idea came from, but I'm pretty excited about it because I can pretty much anything I wanted with it. So, this is my first Clace writing, ever, but I love the two of them just so much that I had to try my hand at writing what I could. I hope I've done them some kind of justice, but I doubt it.

I know that this chapter is really short, but I wanted to leave it off where she sees the ring of doom, so safely expect longer chapters in the future! Well, only if people seem to like this and review. HINTHINT.

Loves to those that read this and cyber cookies to those that comment!

~R.


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